“What do you want from me that I haven’t given you?”
I smirked. “Talk about your broad sweeping questions.” I chuckled. “I want to stick my cock down your throat. I want you to suck it until I come, and then I want you to swallow my cum.”
“Where can I touch—”
“Anywhere I’m allowed to touch you. There’s nothing you should be afraid to try with me.” I was getting a hard-on just sitting in the fucking parking lot. Of course, my hard-on couldn’t possibly be the first for this property. “Anything else?”
“No,” she said quietly.
“Are you as turned on as I am right now?” I smiled even as I spoke.
She finally laughed, showing some lightness to her mood. “Yes.”
“It’s going to have to wait until another day, baby. The cabinets are being delivered first thing tomorrow morning, and I have more work than I can reasonably get done before then. Shawn is coming over to help me this afternoon and tomorrow. It’s going to be a long couple days.”
“Will you be in class Wednesday night?”
“Yes, Professor. I promise.”
“Good.”
“I better let you go. I have some shopping to do before I return to Hazleton.” My lips pulled up, and I shook my head. God, I did not want to go in this place.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
When I climbed out of the truck, I cleared my throat.
Quiver: An Adult Bookstore.
Why the fuck did they call these places bookstores? Did they even sell books?
“Fuck me,” I muttered as I walked toward the entrance.
Chapter Thirty
Helene
“So as you can see, this handout reviews pretty much everything you need to know about your term paper. This paper should be a minimum of five-thousand words. To put this in perspective, you should expect it to be around twenty double spaced pages, give or take.”
And then there were groans.
I ignored it, looking back out to the class and continuing. “The topic is simple. I want you to relate a philosophical concept to real life, preferably your real life, but if you’re uncomfortable sharing personal details, you can use public events, issues, crimes, etcetera. This is an opinion paper, folks, that means I want your perspective. I don’t want a synopsis of what others have said. I do, however, want you to support your opinion with research. Ten sources minimum—” More groans. “—and five must be scholarly. If you need help using the databases for research, contact the library. They’ll gladly assist you.”
I looked around the room to a sea of downtrodden, depressed students—all that is but Kane who was sitting in the center of the front row with the cap of his pen to his mouth, studying me. It wasn’t depression on his face, though, it was … something else.
When I made eye contact with him, his eyebrows shot up. I looked away quickly in hopes of keeping the blush from touching my cheeks. It didn’t work, and I could feel the heat creeping up. When I glanced back at him, his lip was pulled up in a seductive smirk.
I’d not seen him since Sunday night—the middle of the night technically considered Monday morning, I suppose, but still. It had been days. I didn’t like going days without seeing him. Odd, considering I’d not seen him for years until a month and a half ago, and I’d thought I was doing just fine without him. Now, I couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him.
I cleared my throat. “Any questions before we move on?”
Eyes glared back at me, clearly still hating me for the term paper.
“Okay, then. Paper is due the week prior to our final class. If you want to chat about your topic or bounce some ideas off me, just send me an email, and we’ll set up a time to meet. I’ll also be setting aside some class time to discuss topics and let you work on your papers.”
I lectured for the next hour and a half, doing my level best to keep my eyes from stalling on Kane. It was difficult. He’d actually arrived a few minutes early, his hair damp from a shower but his work boots still covered in a thin layer of sawdust or drywall dust. When the flirt had walked in a minute later, he’d glanced toward the door and then ignored her. It did not, however, stop her from taking the seat right next to his.
Now, she was practically draped over the side of her desk toward him, her lanky leg crossed over her knee, and her heeled foot dangling flirtatiously in the narrow, too narrow, aisle that separated them. Kane continued to ignore it as I lectured. I talked through the philosophers of the medieval world before embarking on the renaissance all the way up to Descartes. When eyelids drooped, eyes wandered, and even Kane glanced to the clock, I gave up on it.
“So,” I said as I rounded the desk and leaned against the front edge. “seeing as not a single one of you appears interested in discussing what Descartes meant when he said, ‘I think, therefore I am,’ I’m going to assume you’re bored, therefore you’ve lost interest.”